


christmas tales from (oh so) dark pasts

by jemmasimns



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: Christmas, F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-08
Updated: 2014-12-08
Packaged: 2018-02-28 17:09:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2740376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jemmasimns/pseuds/jemmasimns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt for holiday exchange: hollstein telling Christmas stories they grew up with to each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	christmas tales from (oh so) dark pasts

**Author's Note:**

> this is a holiday exchange gift to tumblr user salithewitch!

It was a comfortable night as Silas, which, as anyone who has attended knows, was very often hard to come by. Laura and Carmilla’s room was decorated from bottom to top in a variety of streamers, lights, glowly objects, and just about anything that the vampire may have addressed as “way too much” or “consumerism at it’s worse”. Laura would have none of it, of course, as Christmas back home was never very much fun. Her father was very cautious when it came to mos things, and the holidays were no exception. Laura had sneaked in a mere mistletoe, an exhilarating plan she had created so that her and her first girlfriend could share some kind of romantic moment under the Hollis household, but as soon as it was discovered, Mr.Hollis was quick to throw it out the window, having a fit that it may be poisonous or diseased.

So, with all the determination she could muster, Laura had spent five continuous, sleepless days decorating the beds, rugs, doors and cupboards with reds and greens that were so bright Carmilla could barely look at them. She wouldn’t tell Laura this, of course; it would really ruin her (adorable) roommate's fun.

Seeing as Christmas was a very social event, Laura and Carmilla had in fact just ended what could only be described as a fiesta of grand proportions, or, put more honestly, a couple friends in a room eating ice cream out of a carton and watching children’s movies. Carmilla had proposed that they watch something less cheery, and “less likely to make her want to pull out her eyes and throw them straight at Santa Claus”, but Laura and the gang all vehemently disagreed. They ended up watching Elf.

It was around 12:30 AM when their little party had ended. Chocolates and popcorn were dotted across the floor, and less comfortable clothes tossed in the corners in favor of more festive sleepwear. Carmilla wanted to go to sleep. Laura wasn’t going to have any of that, either.

“So,” Laura began. She sat on Carmilla’s bed, the vampire tucked pathetically into her sheets in an effort to get some shut eye.

“So?” Carmilla said drowsily. She rubbed her eyes and sat up to face Laura, knowing her chances of sleeping were scarce.

“I was wondering…” Laura started, a giddy smile forming on her face. Carmilla couldn’t stop herself from smiling back, “what was Christmas like back then? Back whenever?”

“Oh,” Carmilla’s smile faltered slightly, “it wasn’t always like this. So cheery.”

“Really?” Laura asked, her head leaning towards Carmilla’s in curiosity.

“Mmph, yeah. It used to be more religious. A lot less lights and a lot more Jesus, basically,” Carmilla laughed.

“Huh,” Laura tilted her head as she thought, “Christmas must have been weird as a vampire. I mean, you guys have been chased around with crosses and garlic for centuries.”

Carmilla laughed at that, her eyes squinting affectionately, “Yeah, a little bit. There are some things that have stayed the same, though. Even for us vamps. Even from before then.”

“Oh, really?”

“Of course; stories,” Carmilla grinned.

“Stories?”

“Christmas tales, you know.”

“Oh!” Laura’s face lit up, “They’ve been around for that long, then?”

“Yeah. My mortal mother used to tell me them every Christmas, and after that I’d hear them at religious gatherings and the such. They always stuck around.”

“Tell me!” Laura squealed, shuffling closer to Carmilla and balancing her elbow on the headboard. Their faces hung inches apart, but there was nothing tense about it.

“Tell you a story?” Carmilla laughed dryly, her eyes briefly falling to Laura’s lips.

“You tell me yours and I’ll tell you mine,” Laura said, “it’ll be like a history lesson.”

“Do I have to?” Carmilla groaned, the realization of her impending drowsiness finally hitting her. She sunk further back into her sheets, leaving Laura to dangle above her, an enthusiastic grin still plastered to her face.

“Yes,” Laura said smoothly, “yes you do.”

Carmilla raised her eyebrows in surprise, but it didn’t take much to move her.

“Fine,” Carmilla said, her eyes locking with Laura as she hung above the vampire’s face. Laura squealed and she quickly changed her position, lying on her stomach and nestling her face onto the pillow beside Carmilla. Carmilla simply smirked and began her tale.

“Well, one of my favorites has always been das Licht Mädchen,”

“What is that?”

“It’s German for the Light Girl,” Carmilla smiled.

“You speak German?” Laura asked, impressed as always.

“I do.”

Laura scooched impossibly closer to Carmilla, “Go on.”

“Well, once upon a time, in the small town of Apolda, there was a little girl who did not have a name. Some of the townspeople called her a spirit, and others thought she was a young homeless beggar. She had long, blonde hair and never did she smile. The curiousest thing about her, however, was not her appearance, but was that she only appeared at night. This gave her the nickname dunkle Kind, or dark child. And when she did appear, she would hum an offbeat toon, and carry around a lantern that was always so close to burning dry. Many tried to reason with her, to come to their cottage and keep warm, but she would quickly become scared and run away. Many thought her a nuisance, and others just did not care…

As the months dragged on towards the winter holidays, the girl began to appear more and more frequently. She would appear in the night, knock down a booth or a shop or a flower pot, and then disappeared behind a building before someone could stop her. Many shopkeepers became frustrated, demanding that she be handled. The authorities tried - they did - but she was uncatchable, irreversible - the damage she wreaked in the night could not be stopped, no matter how big or small.”

“Let me guess, she was a vampire?” Laura chuckled, her lips pursed in curiosity.

“Funny, but no,” Carmilla smirked, “If you’d let me continue, maybe you’d find out, idiot.”

“Okay, okay! Keep going,” Laura grinned. She nudged her leg into Carmilla’s, and Carmilla’s smirk grew larger.

“It was the day before Christmas, then, when the little girl finally did not appear. No goods were stolen, no flower pots broke, but the town found itself incredibly lonely. The girl had given them a bonding goal - to rid themselves of such a nuisance. They found, in her absence, that little was left for them to relate to each other. It was said, then, that nothing bonds people like a common pain.”

“You were right, Carm,” Laura said, “Christmas stories were a lot more emo back then.”

“Shut up,” Carmilla glared playfully, “Anyway, that night, the town guard stayed at home, the villagers stayed locked up in their houses. People were alone. Lonely. No pest was there to awaken them from their slumber and make them gather and hunt. It was like a pack of wolves with no food. It was eternally dark - no lanterns in sight. Even the moon was hidden in the sky. That was then she appeared.”

“And killed everyone?” Laura guessed.

“I’m not that gloomy, you know,” Carmilla rolled her eyes.

Laura leaned closer and their noses touched; Carmilla’s eyes grew large and she swore she could feel the ghost of beat in her chest, and her story all but lost on her tongue.

“Keep going,” Laura whispered faintly in her ear. Carmilla nodded slightly, careful not to move her nose from Laura’s. The touch made her stomach flutter.

“I-It was then, when she appeared, that things were different. The clock had struck twelve, Christmas night begun, but not a soul in the city was out to celebrate. Saddened by her findings, she wandered to the center of town and floated just above the christmas tree which was placed in the middle of the square, with teardrops falling down her cheeks, lantern still in hand.

A boy came to her then. One very close in age, a villager boy, and he asked her a simple question.

‘What’s wrong?’

And to that, she replied, ‘Their lives have lost their light,’ and she slammed her lantern down on the top of the tree, releasing a spur of light unto the top to form a glistening star. Seeing the magnificent light, the people of the town came to the square and began to clap, applaud, cheer and sing. They vowed then, to always collect on that day, and celebrate the struggles which brought them together and the light which with they were bound. The End.”

“Wow,” Laura breathed, her eyes glistening in a way Carmilla could not describe, “I see why you’re a philosophy major.”

Carmilla smirked, “Oh really, then?”

“Yeah,” Laura grinned, a wider grin then Carmilla had ever seen. In less than a second, Laura felt her fingers up Carmilla’s arm and into her hair, stroking it tenderly before throwing it away from her eyes. Carmilla felt everything in her tense, anticipation striking her.

“My stories weren’t so involved, really,” Laura said in long, drawn out syllables. Her nose was flush to Carmilla’s cheek, now, and Carmilla could feel her breath as it came.

“R-Really? Tell me one, then?” Carmilla tried to smirk, but she was overcome with the butterflies in her stomach.

“Well, once upon a time, someone told me that actions could speak a thousand words…” Laura said, leaning even further towards Carmilla.

Finally, oh so finally, Laura leaned in and placed a kiss to Carmilla’s lips, and she could feel Carmilla’s smile grow even larger under hers.

“The end,” Laura said.

 

 


End file.
